


Return to Paradise

by Tarlan



Category: The Paradise Connection
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-27
Updated: 2006-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry learns that Bruce is more than just a good friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to Paradise

The image of Bruce Douglas swam in and out of focus. He could hear noises that had to be words and yet they seemed meaningless; a jumble of sounds and intonations strung together that ought to make sense. Bruce wanted something from him, some information, and he tried hard to focus on each word, wondering what could be so important, and wondering why he hurt so much.

Package? The package in the white case. Yes. He could remember swimming out on his surfboard to the buoy and tying it there.

"Deep six."

Bruce gave him a squeeze on the forearm and a reassuring smile, and then he left him alone, leaving him to sink back into the hardness of the bench. Larry felt sick, his head spinning, his limbs heavy and unresponsive - and Bruce was walking away.

"Please."

Bruce turned at his whispered request, swiftly moving back to his side and crouching down, one hand reaching out to stroke the side of his face gently before pushing back some of the sweat soaked hair that was sticking to his forehead.

"Hey. I've gotta make a call. Gotta get you some help. You understand?"

Larry tried not to whimper, afraid of being abandoned, but he knew he would have to trust Bruce. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, tasting blood in his mouth.

"Yeah."

His hand was squeezed once more in reassurance and then the warmth of that hand left him, fast receding footsteps echoing along the darkened dock. It seemed as if no time had passed before he felt the comforting presence again.

"Paramedics are on their way. Just hang on in there, Larry. You're gonna be okay."

"Head hurts."

Larry could feel the slickness of his own blood trickling down the nape of his neck, and wondered if it had been just a fist that connected with the back of his skull or something else. It had all happened so fast. The punch in the stomach that had driven the wind out of him, the blows to his face and body as the Major's henchman asked him questions, and then the explosion of pain as the fist - or something - hit him hard on the back of the head.

Bruce sat down beside him, cradling him in his arms, tilting Larry's head until it lay snugly on Bruce's shoulder. In the distance Larry could hear the wail of a siren getting closer. Eerie lights in blue and red began to flicker, growing stronger even as the sirens grew louder. The siren stopped suddenly, plunging the dock into a deathly silence broken only by the slamming of doors and his own harsh breathing.

"You'll be okay, little bro'."

Bruce whispered into his ear then relinquished his hold, quickly moving into the shadows. Larry managed a shaky smile as the familiar words flowed over him. Little Bro. Bruce had been calling him that from the day they met, probably in recognition of the uncanny resemblance between them. How often had they been mistaken for one another with their similar build and coloring? It had started out as a private joke between them but, after six months of living in each other's pockets, he had almost come to believe they were brothers.

Unfamiliar voices began to question him, asking him where he hurt. He cried out as their firm, experienced hands touched and prodded, and then, finally, he gave into the darkness beckoning to him.

****

Bright light stabbed at him through his closed eyelids and Larry tried to squeeze them shut even tighter. He turned his head to ease some of the pain from that light and gasped as a far worse pain flared from the back of his head. Groaning loudly, Larry forced his eyes to open.

They watered, blurring the images around him until he became accustomed to the brightness of Hawaiian daylight streaming through the large window and reflecting off the pale colored walls. He gazed around the sterile but comfortable room, gradually realizing that he must be in the local hospital in Lahaina. Confirmation came moments later when the door opened and a pretty nurse strode in. She treated him to a warm, welcoming smile.

"So you've decided to rejoin us? I'll let the doctor know."

She disappeared before he had a chance to question her but the doctor arrived about twenty minutes later and was able to confirm, at least, where he was and how long he had been there. After giving Larry a cursory examination, the doctor left but a slight rap on the door caught Larry's attention.

"Want a visitor, little bro?"

Larry grinned then winced as the movement made his head hurt. He reached out a hand and felt it grasped in Bruce's strong grip, and then he looked sheepish, remembering what he had done.

"Sorry I took your stash. Weren't just for the money..."

"Hey. It's okay, Larry. I understand far better than you know."

Larry raked a hand through his hair, feeling the greasiness of the strands. His fingers found the edge of the bandage and he pulled his hand away, not wanting to risk causing himself any more pain than necessary. It was then he noticed the sling Bruce wore on his left arm and, silently, he wondered what had happened but, before he could ask, Bruce dropped a bombshell.

"Larry. I'm going back to Chicago with my father... to go into partnership with him. He's changed his ideals; changing his clients."

Larry swallowed grimly, remembering the white-haired man who had come looking for Bruce at their shared boat, the Rhianna II, who had momentarily mistaken him for Bruce. The man had given him a hundred-dollar bill for nothing more than an incentive to contact him should Bruce reappear.

Larry recalled the times he and Bruce had discussed family, how Bruce's father had put Bruce through Law school and then invited him to join the practice once he had qualified almost at the top of his class. In addition, he recalled how Bruce had refused because he hated his father's choice of clients. His father was a highly successful lawyer, representing men who purported to be businessmen but had their fingers in many unsavory pies. There was never any solid evidence but Bruce was certain these businessmen were connected to organized crime, dealing in drugs, guns and human flesh.

The thought brought him back to the disapproval Bruce would show whenever Larry gave into his craving for Cocaine - and Bruce's approval had become quite important to him. He had even managed to reduce the number of times he took a hit just because Bruce was there to keep him talking, to keep the anxiety at bay for a few extra hours each time. Bruce had convinced him to stop injecting, sometimes assisting him as he fell back on less intensive but safer ways of taking the drug he craved.

Now Bruce was leaving.

Larry recognized the anxiety filling him and with it his craving grew. With despair starting to take a grip, all he wanted to do was get out of this place and pick up his stash. He looked away to where the bright sunshine seemed so at odds with his darkening thoughts, bowing his head in defeat.

"So you're leaving. I'm-I'm pleased for you. I'll see you around sometime."

Larry looked up, eyes wide in shock, when Bruce grabbed his chin, dragging him back to face those penetrative blue eyes. He hissed in pain, his head swimming from the sudden movement.

"I don't intend to leave you behind, Larry. We had an agreement; that you'd kick the habit..."

"Oh yeah, Mr. Clean? Well that was before you decided to go into business dealing..."

"Business?" Bruce shook his head in disbelief, but then his expression softened. "I didn't take the drugs to set myself up as a dealer. I took them to help the Narcs set up the Major. To put that piece of scum away behind bars where he belongs."

"And Mrs Donovan?"

"Mrs Donovan? Larry, she's a Narc."

"Christ. And I was going to offer the drugs to her." Larry licked his lips nervously as he recalled his phone call to her soon after hiding the drugs out near Rainbow Cove. "She knows about me though."

"I know. But you were part of the deal I made with her from the very beginning - as long as you'll go into the program."

"In Chicago?"

"Does it matter where?"

"Do you know what the temperature's like there this time of year?"

"You backing out?"

Larry grimaced, realizing his concern about the cold was an excuse for backing away from going into detox, because of his fear of withdrawal. Even so, in his whole life he had never lived in any place where the temperature dropped below 20 degrees during the day, although he was not native to the islands. He had been in Lahaina only a few weeks before meeting Bruce; his recent addiction forcing him to move on when the Police started to crack down on the addicts in Honolulu. Before then he had moved around from place to place in the warm south-western states, having been forced to leave his hometown of Las Vegas when he got on the wrong side of some of the lower ranks of the Mafia. Fleetingly, he wondered if his mother was still trying to find work in the casinos, believing she was the beautiful, young girl who could wow an audience with her high kicks and sweet singing voice.

Larry thought about Bruce's loving father; a man willing to change because his son asked it of him, and then he considered his own non-existent father. He didn't even know the man's name, just that he had been dazzled by the bright lights of Las Vegas - and his mother's charms, though not enough to marry her when she fell pregnant. The only clue that his old man even knew of his existence was the monthly credit paid direct into his mother's account, but it came through a conglomerate and no amount of haranguing had persuaded them to reveal his father's identity. Other than that his mother had no contact with his father, so there were no letters or photographs sent; nothing that could make an emotional connection between father and son. He suspected his father was a married man, perhaps with legitimate children of his own, who wanted no reminders of the mother and child he had abandoned.

Larry sneered, wondering if the monthly credit was still arriving now he had run away, but then he realized his mother was astute enough to lie if it meant the continuation of those ever-increasing payments.

"You want me to go to Chicago with you? What about your Dad? He's not going to want you associating with lowlife pond scum like me..."

"I gave you my word, Larry." Bruce grinned. "And I don't consider you pond scum. Look. I'm booked on the next flight out of here but I'll start making inquiries about detox programs in Chicago as soon as I get there. I'll send you a ticket once it's all set up."

"Yeah."

"I mean it, Larry. We're talking a week. Two on the outside. I don't abandon my friends, and you're more than just my friend." His expression softened once more. "Dolly's coming too. I proposed to her - and she said yes."

Larry couldn't help but smile, knowing how much Dolly loved Bruce and deciding it was about time Bruce realized how much he loved her in return. He felt another reassuring grip on his arm.

"You gonna hang on?"

"Yeah. I'll hang on."

****

They released Larry from the hospital the following day and it felt strange entering the place he had shared with Bruce knowing that the other man had gone, possibly for good. Larry frowned as he spotted his drugs paraphernalia strewn across the floor, the glass jar holding it smashed. Other items had been ripped or broken, drawers left open with clothing strewn about the floor. Even the mattress had been slashed. He knew the Major's men had probably been in here searching for that missing package, but they wouldn't have found it for he had hidden it out near Rainbow Cove.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He was so tired and yet sleep was elusive, and try as he might, he could not work up enough interest in food. Even the thought of food made his stomach roil.

Larry sank onto his bed, burying his head in his hands, feeling lower than he had in years. He knew it was the start of the crash, knew he could remove all the anxiety by taking just a small hit, but he had made a promise to Bruce.

He snarled in annoyance. Bruce was long gone - and he was alone once more. Tears burned in his eyes, blurring his vision, as he succumbed to the depths of despair. He pushed up from the bed and yanked open the bedside drawer, fingers searching for the release catch to his hidden stash.

"What the..?"

His hand came away empty and Larry realized Bruce or one of the Major's henchmen must have found his stash.

"Damn him."

He raised his fists, wanting to pound into anything close to hand but a knock at the door brought him up short. Larry shoved the drawer closed and opened the door, raking a hand through his hair to try and tidy it up a little. He dredged up a small smile when he saw it was Dolly.

"Hey, Larry. Heard you'd been released from hospital. Bruce asked me to keep an eye on you, make sure you had everything you needed... except.. you know." She waited expectantly, then indicated towards the room. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Errh. It's a mess."

Dolly rolled her eyes and pushed past him, making small exclamations as she saw the damage.

"They really worked this place over."

"Yeah."

"Hey... I'll help you straighten up then we can go get something to eat."

Dolly started picking clothing off the floor, folding the items and placing them on an ever growing pile on the ruined bed, and Larry found himself motivated enough to help. He stopped after a few minutes when the pain in his head became too great.

"You just sit there, Larry. Let me tidy up." She continued on, finding a brush to sweep up the broken glass and splinters of wood. "Oh, by the way, we're not going to Chicago. Bruce has convinced his father to close down his business and hang his shingle in Lahaina. Isn't that good news?"

Larry stared at Dolly, unable to believe it.

"Close your mouth, Larry, or you'll start catching flies."

"I thought Bruce..."

"He persuaded his Dad that a fresh start in paradise was a far better prospect than finding reasons why he could no longer represent his old, less than respectable clients in Chicago. A sort of semi-retirement plan."

"So he's coming back here?"

"He's flying back tomorrow."

****

The coastguard had brought the Rhianna II back into dock and it was still loaded with the weeks worth of provisions Larry had picked up for Bruce's escape from the Major. If he had an appetite then it might have been a welcome find but at least it meant he didn't have to waste any more cash on a meal that he couldn't eat. Larry grimaced as he thought about the disastrous meal he had shared with Dolly the day he came out of the hospital; how he had to excuse himself so he could throw up what little he had eaten.

On the plus side, at least having the Rhianna II returned meant he had somewhere clean to sleep while he made repairs on the room he had shared with Bruce. As he lay down on the bunk, Larry thought back over the events of the past few weeks.

He was a little upset when he realized the whole thing had been a ruse from start to finish, although he was not upset to learn Bruce had not stolen the drugs for his own benefit as he had believed. He wasn't certain what to think about the reason Bruce had cited; that Bruce had agreed mostly to keep him out of the hands of the law. Larry wished he understood why, unwilling to admit why anyone could like him enough to want to risk life and limb for his freedom.

Once he knew Dolly had spoken the truth, that Bruce was returning to Lahaina, Larry found the courage to go back to the hospital where they had recently started a detox group, wanting to show Bruce he was willing to take those first steps for himself. Somehow, Bruce's approval had been important even from the early days of their acquaintance. Maybe it was because of the caring that Bruce had shown from the very first time they met. No one had truly cared for him before; he had been unwanted by his father and a burden to his mother - except for that monthly credit.

Larry waited impatiently for the plane to land, feeling Dolly's nails sink into his forearm when the familiar figure emerged from the aircraft. Bruce was looking up towards the public gallery, stopping only to accept a lei from a pretty Hawaiian girl. He spotted them, waving frantically, and Larry felt a moment of disquiet as he wondered if Bruce was eager to see both of them - or just Dolly.

He hung back as Bruce wrapped his arms around Dolly, kissing her passionately, but then found himself drawn into an equally strong embrace.

"Hey, little bro'. Dolly says we start detox tomorrow."

"We?"

"Didn't think I was going to let you go through this alone, did you?" His voice softened. "Come on. You don't look so good. Let's see if we can get some food inside you."

"Not hungry."

"I know. But let's try anyway."

"Why are you doing this, Bruce? You don't owe me anything."

Bruce kept one arm around Dolly's trim waist but slung the other around Larry's shoulder.

"I'm doing it because you're more special than you realize. Anyway, that's what a big bro's for."

Larry spent the next week in the detox center, determined to beat the craving that had reduced his body to a miserable shell. His stomach hurt from lack of food and his eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. Bruce and Dolly had stayed with him as much as possible, trying to keep his spirits high even as his mind and body crashed to their lowest ebb. As the worst of it started to ease, he was grateful they had stuck by him, knowing he might have given up if he had not had their support. Larry was not naive though, he knew this was just the beginning, that most cocaine abusers fell back into old habits within five years but, at this point in time, he was determined to stay clean.

He had to admit there was one thing that confused him still: Bruce. It was clear Bruce loved Dolly with all his heart and yet there seemed to be an equal amount of love for him too. There had been strange words that he thought had been said in the heat of the moment, as a means of giving him the strength to fight the addiction, and these words might have given him greater concern had he not known how strongly Bruce felt about Dolly. Instead he found himself anxious, wondering why he was so important to Bruce.

Two days later they found themselves back at the airport waiting for another plane to finish taxiing. Larry felt shaky but Bruce had wanted him to be present. He recognized the familiar, white-haired man coming down the plane steps, and he saw Stewart Douglas wave warmly to his son before accepting his lei.

They met in the airport concourse, Larry hanging back while Bruce embraced his father, and Dolly gave her prospective father-in-law a kiss on the cheek. Finally, Bruce stood back, a smug smile on his face.

"Dad? Do you remember telling me how grandfather was a man with a strong sense of family honor and tradition? How he would not tolerate even the slightest blemish on the family name?"

"Yes. He was a hard man... but fair."

"Was he fair? I looked into his affairs not long before I left Chicago last year." Bruce smiled, quickly changing the subject. "Do you remember a trip to Las Vegas just after I was born?"

Larry watched the color drain from Stewart Douglas's face, seeing the eyes glaze as possibly unwelcome memories of the distant past broke free.

"Grandfather was contacted soon after, and he set up a trust fund to keep certain matters quiet." Larry felt Bruce's arm around his shoulders, and he was treated to a small reassuring smile. "Dad, Larry. I don't believe you've been formally introduced. Dad, this is Lawrence Martins... Your son... And my little brother."

THE END


End file.
